


Achilles

by ViolentVioletEye



Series: Schlatt is Tubbo's Father [6]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Bodyguard, Crying, Dad Jschlatt, DadSchlatt, Gen, Hybrids, Jschlatt Needs a Hug, Separation, Song Lyrics, Toby Smith | Tubbo-centric, its about to go down, mysterious twin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:00:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27461599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViolentVioletEye/pseuds/ViolentVioletEye
Summary: Tubbo is going to see Eret.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Fundy, Alexis | Quackity & Jschlatt, Alexis | Quackity & Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Floris | Fundy & Jschlatt, Floris | Fundy & Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo
Series: Schlatt is Tubbo's Father [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980382
Comments: 65
Kudos: 804





	Achilles

**Author's Note:**

> Schlatt dreams.

_“Achilles,_

_Achilles,_

_Achilles, come down, won't you,_

_Get up off,_

_Get up off the roof?_

_You're scaring us,_

_And all of us-_

_Some of us love you,_

_Achilles, it's not much but there's proof…”_

_The voice sounded as though they were singing through water. Schlatt could feel the cold, dirty floor of the alleyway under his back. He could smell the stench of the city and it’s garbage, as they laid behind some trash cans to stay out of people’s eyesight. People felt sorry for street rat children until they realized they were hybrids._

_“You crazy assed cosmonaut,_

_Remember your virtue._

_Redemption lies plainly in truth.”_

_The voice was humorous, loving, and kind. He peeled his eyes open and looked over. He could feel the cold of the rainy night on his face, could feel it seeping into his bones. But someone laid on their stomach, propped up on their elbows beside him, trying to shield him from the cold as best they could. He knew who it was. He knew from the voice, and the deer antlers sticking out of their head._

_His brother. His dear twin._

_“Just humor us,_

_Achilles._

_Achilles, come down!_

_Won't you get up off,_

_Get up off the roof?”_

_It was fading around him. His eyes grew heavy as his twin stared down at him with the same dark brown eyes they shared. His brown hair, the same shade as Schlatt’s, was badly in need of a wash, and not from just rainwater. He looked tired, he looked worried, and he looked sad. Schlatt lifted his hand to reach for him, but even though he was right beside him, it was like he never touched him. He was right in front of him, but so far away at the same time. He was like a star in the night sky, untouchable but oh so beautiful and brilliant._

_Schlatt’s heart cried._

_“Achilles,_

_Achilles,_

_Achilles come down, won't you,_

_Get up off,_

_Get up off the roof...?”_

_Schlatt’s eyes slid shut as tears streamed down his cheeks and his brother’s voice faded into the background._

“Mr. President?”

The voice, accompanied by the knock on his bedroom door, pulled Schlatt from his sleep. He blinked his eyes open and was relieved to find himself alone, as tears were still running down his cheeks. He rubbed at his cheeks as he sat up, planting his feet on the floor beside his bed. He hunched over his knees, staring at the floor. There was another knock on the door.

“What?” He finally called out, rubbing at his face.

“I’m sorry to wake you, sir, but you told me to wake you up when Tubbo was almost done packing.”

Right.

“Thank you, George.”

He listened as the man walked away before he finally pushed himself to his feet. He had fallen asleep in his dress shirt and dress pants again. At least this time, he was able to get his tie and jacket off. He pulled his shirt off as he walked to the closet, moving more by autopilot than anything. He hadn’t dreamed about his brother in a very long time, and he wondered what had caused it this time. Then again, the dream didn’t make a lot of sense. He and his brother did raise themselves on the streets, but they didn’t live on them anymore when his brother had his antlers fully grown in, and Schlatt had his horns. Shortly after they had come through, they had been taken in by…

It didn’t matter, he realized. It was just a dream. If he had to explain it, he would blame it on the fact that he had been exposed to a family member again, that being his son Tubbo. It had been a long time since he had been near anyone related to him by blood, the last being his twin. And working on the lower classes and seeing the people sleeping in the streets, in the alleyways, was reminding him of his own childhood. So much so that it followed him in dreams. Anyone else would take a break, step back, and calm down. But he knew he couldn’t. He had made a promise to those poor people, and they were the biggest reason why he and Quackity had won in the first place. He was determined to keep his promises to them. J. Schlatt _always_ kept his promises.

After he had changed his shirt and pants and pulled his shoes, jacket, and tie on, he stepped out of his room. George stepped out from where he was leaning against the wall waiting for him, falling in line behind him as they walked down the hall. Schlatt had given up on trying to get George to walk beside him, or to call him by his first name. At least in private. He had been his bodyguard since he had become President, placed there on his own accord, and by some of Dream’s to keep an eye on Schlatt. He knew this, they hadn’t really tried to hide it, and that was fine. He had nothing to hide. He wanted the same things Dream wanted, and that was to keep this server safe and away from Wilbur’s control. The only difference was that Dream wanted to keep everyone on the server safe. Schlatt just wanted to keep Tubbo safe.

It had been a week since the whole Wilbur incident. Wilbur had been quiet since then. He had ruined some of his reputation with his little stunt, and he seemed to realize that. People had seen him and his little ‘revolutioneers’ chasing down Tubbo. They had seen him behead the person trying to help Tubbo to safety. They had also seen that most, if not all of his soldiers, were children. Teenagers not much older than Tubbo, some even younger. They had tried to capture some of them, to take them out of the war and to help them, but they had all either run off or killed themselves to avoid being captured. It made Schlatt sick, made his skin crawl because he wondered if Tubbo had been like that once upon a time. If he would have shot himself with an arrow to ensure he wasn’t captured by the enemy.

Schlatt had been in actual war, where there was no respawn. He had seen men and women kill themselves, nurses and soldiers, alike, because the horrors were too great. Fellow soldiers that he had led, protected, fought alongside had died in front of him too many times. War was war, with and without respawn. How much trauma did Tubbo have? How much was he hiding?

What about Tommy?

Schlatt knocked on Tubbo’s door and was answered with a cherry; “it’s unlocked!” He opened the door and stepped in, looking around. He raised an eyebrow. The room was in disarray, clothes pulled out of the dresser, the closet doors opened and Tubbo’s feet sticking out from under the pile of clothes inside of it.

“You know, Tubbo, the point of a closet is to _hang_ your clothes up.”

“Oh, hey, Schlatt!”

Tubbo popped out and smiled at him, and Schlatt couldn’t help but smile back. While they weren’t… entirely okay, and Tubbo certainly wasn’t calling him dad, they weren’t at each other’s throats. Tubbo wasn’t constantly shrinking back from him, or looking at him with poorly disgusted hate and fear. Schlatt always made sure they weren’t in the room alone, just to help with the transition. He wanted to talk to Tubbo about them so badly. He wanted to figure out what the kid wanted to do if Schlatt should get his hopes up or not about having a good, close relationship with his son. But he didn’t want to scare him off. The kid needed space. Every teenager did. Then again, not every teenager was the Secretary of State…

But, the title did help excuse Tubbo’s trip. A Secretary of State was meant to handle foreign affairs, after all. He was going to Eret’s kingdom, to visit his friend just as he had asked. Schlatt didn’t want him to go. Everything in him screamed for him to say no, to tell Tubbo he had changed his mind, that he needed him here. But he knew that would be selfish. Tubbo deserved to go where he pleased, to see an old friend. And he was so excited… Though the thought of Tubbo not even being in the same country as him pained him, seeing Tubbo running around, throwing clothes into his suitcase, a charger for his communicator, some snacks for the road; he couldn’t tell him no. He had been looking forward to this for nearly three days now since the doctor said he would be alright to go.

Tubbo had been in such a horrible shape when he collapsed on the lawn of the White House. The doctors told him he obviously hadn’t been taking care of himself since he was dehydrated and starved. The only way he had even made it to the White House was sheer luck, and the strength and speed potion he had obviously taken. They had found the traces in his system. Schlatt could feel the warmth of Wilbur’s head under his hands again and could feel the burst of code as he smashed it into the grass.

“Are you excited?” He asked, putting his hands behind his back. Tubbo nodded, beaming as he pushed in another sweatshirt. He shut his closet doors.

“Yes! I’m so excited, I can’t stay still!” That was all too true, considering he was literally jumping up and down as he was trying to close his stuffed suitcase. Schlatt crossed the distance between them, pressing his hand down on the lid of the suitcase. His weight kept it shut, allowing Tubbo to zip it all the way closed. He grinned up at him. “Thanks!” Schlatt nodded, heart trembling as he stepped back from his son.

“I wanted to walk you to the train station,” he told him, “if that's alright with you.” Tubbo nodded, brown bangs flopping as he did. The boy was in need of a trim, Schlatt realized fondly. He resisted the urge to ruffle his hair and instead nodded back, watching as Tubbo picked up his suitcase with great difficulty. He reached out and took it from him, wondering how he was able to pack so much stuff into it, before leading them to the door. Tubbo was practically skipping beside him as they left his room and the White House, joined by Schlatt’s other guards that only went with him when he left. George led them a couple of paces behind them, silent and hand on his crossbow as always.

“Eret said he’d try to meet me at the station! I’m so excited! I was honestly kinda worried that he wouldn’t wanna see me, you know? I said some nasty things the last time we saw each other, but, I think he was really excited!” Schlatt nodded, a fond smile on his lips as he listened to Tubbo ramble. “He said they have an indoor garden and some bees! _Bees!_ He promised we would swing by so I could see them!”

“You like bees?”

Tubbo looked at him as if he had insulted his ancestors.

“Bees are my entire thing, Schlatt! I’ve just been too busy to take care of anything!”

“Ah.”

Schlatt knew so little of his son. He wanted to change that. He would work on it after he got back, though, this new knowledge was giving him an idea…

They arrived at the train station. Schlatt checked the redstone powered clock and saw they still had a couple more minutes before Tubbo’s train arrived. He turned to the boy.

“Before you go, there’s something we need to talk about.” Tubbo blinked up at him, then wrinkled his nose.

“Is this gonna be one of those ‘be good’ speeches?” Schlatt rolled his eyes.

“No. Well, kinda? It's more of a ‘be safe’ speech.” Tubbo blinked up at him. “What Wilbur did… It was scary. Really scary, for all of us. Including me. If Wilbur got his hands on you…” Schlatt took a deep breath. Tubbo shuffled his feet, suddenly very interested in them as he crossed his arms. “I can’t keep you in the White House walls all the time, and there’s always the chance that he could even get a hold of you in those. I’m not telling you this to scare you.” He looked past Tubbo, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “I’m telling you this because I’m giving you a bodyguard.”

Tubbo’s head snapped up. He looked at Schlatt with wide eyes. “A bodyguard?” He sputtered. “No, no—I don’t want a bodyguard! That's so, it's so _weird!_ I don’t want some stranger following me around everywhere!”

“Well, you’ll be happy to hear it's not some stranger.” Schlatt gestured over Tubbo’s shoulder, and the boy turned before his eyes widened. Walking through the crowd towards them, was…

 _“You!”_ Tubbo sprinted over and hugged the Stranger tightly around his waist, burying his head into his midsection. It was them, the Stranger that had saved them from Wilbur! He was as stiff as a board, and he gave an awkward pat to his head. He was wearing the same outfit as before, and the same helmet. It was colored a mix of blue and green, the splotches of color moving back and forth like a liquid in a lava lamp. “You’re okay! I thought— I thought I’d never see you again!”

_“Uh-huh. Please let go of me.”_

“Oh, s- sure!” Tubbo jumped back, rocking on his heels as he stared up at Zexy. He wasn’t much taller than him, but it was enough to be noticeable. A lot of people were usually taller than Tubbo, though, so he was used to it. “What are you doing here?” He asked.

“He’s your bodyguard.” Tubbo looked up as Schlatt clasped his shoulder. Schlatt stared down at him before he looked at the stranger and nodded in greeting. “His name is John. He’ll be following you around when you’re in public and keeping a close eye on you when you’re in the White House. He’ll be your own personal shadow.”

“Your name is John?” Tubbo asked curiously. The Stranger, now dubbed John, just nodded. Tubbo noticed the black duffle bag that he was holding, dangling over the back of his shoulder. His eyes brightened. “Are you coming with me to Eret’s Kingdom?!” John nodded again, silent still. “That’s great! Oh, you’ll love Eret, he’s really nice and funny! From— From what I remember anyway. It’s been a couple of years,” Tubbo rubbed the back of his neck. Schlatt squeezed his shoulder and he looked up at him. The President was staring down at him with that emotion again, the emotion he just couldn’t understand.

“I’m sure you’ll have a lot of fun. Come on, your train is about to begin boarding.”

Goodbyes were said as the conductor shouted for everyone to come aboard. John carried Tubbo’s suitcase for him and shared a few quiet words with the President before they stepped up onto the train. With John’s help, Tubbo was able to weave through the crowd of passengers to stick his head out the window and wave to Schlatt. Schlatt stood in the middle of the crowd seeing them off, surrounded in a protective circle by his bodyguards. George was giving a staring lady an intense side-eye, his hands on his crossbow that was still strapped to his back. But Schlatt didn’t give his surroundings any mind, instead focusing on waving back at Tubbo. The train whistled, loud and piercing, and steam billowed up from the engine as the doors let in their last passengers before closing. Tubbo could feel John right behind him, shielding him from the other passengers as they gave some last waves to their family and friends. The train began to move down the track, gradually picking up speed. Tubbo didn’t stop waving. He wasn’t sure why. He suddenly couldn’t take his eyes off of Schlatt, who was smiling and waving back to him still. Tubbo stuck his head out further as they got further away, craning his neck to keep Schlatt in his vision for as long as possible. He lost him for a moment, and when he saw him again, Schlatt’s back was to him and a hand was lifted to his face.

Tubbo’s eyes were stinging as John pulled him back into the train with a firm grip.

“Did he get on the train safely?”

Schlatt nodded, not quite ready to talk just yet. His throat felt scratchy, his eyes still stung, and he was a little mortified he hadn’t been able to keep it together until they had gotten back to the White House. The handkerchief one of his bodyguards had given him was still in his pocket, crumpled and damp, in case he broke again.

“That's good.”

Fundy was staring at him with worried understanding, while Quackity was oblivious. He was too busy shuffling through papers, pulling select ones out before there was a decent pile and he pushed them towards Schlatt. They were sitting in a meeting room, the Archbishop and the Vice President had just finished up a meeting with other members of the board when Schlatt had returned home—without Tubbo.

“What are those?” Fundy asked, curious.

“Schlatt had some of his bodyguards investigate Tubbo’s home while Tubbo was recovering,” Quackity informed him, and Fundy looked at the papers in bewilderment.

“Why didn’t I hear about this?”

“You and Tubbo were practically attached to the hip!” Quackity laughed. “We didn’t want Tubbo to hear about it.” Fundy squinted and looked at Schlatt, who was skimming through the papers, a frown on his lips.

“Why not? I thought we weren’t going to hide anything from each other!” The fox proclaimed, tail puffing up.

“Well, we were gonna tell him, but then the guards… They found something.” Quackity shifted and crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t see the point of trying to act cool, calm, and collected in front of these two. Schlatt was his president after all, and he had worked on several projects with Fundy. One of those being Tubbo, if he was being honest. “They found a bag of goods, from Niki’s bakery.”

“So?” Fundy looked at him, eyebrows furrowed. “Niki probably heard about what was going on, and left him some sweets to cheer him up.”

“It was bread and some slices of cake,” Quackity told him. “And it couldn’t have been Niki.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because Niki’s not on this server anymore.”

Fundy stared at him.

“She left a day after the election. Her bakery has only been running because of her workers. I assume they’ve been sending the money to her.”

“Okay, then, one of the workers left it for him!”

“No, Fundy. There was a note and everything!” Quackity grabbed a slip of paper from the pile he had given Schlatt, who lifted the ones on top of it to help Quackity without peeling his eyes from the report he was currently reading. His frown was deeper, bigger. It was giving Fundy a very bad feeling. He took the note when Quackity handed it to him.

_I will always be here for you._

There was more, but the ink was colored blue. It looked like the period had once been a comma, and when you put the two together, it was;

_I will always be here for you, Wilbur._

“... What does this mean?” Fundy asked, though the tightness in his chest told him he already knew. And it wasn’t because of his binder. Quackity let out a shaky breath.

“The bread was poisoned, with a virus.” Fundy’s ears flattened against his head. “This sort of suggests that… Well… Niki is working for Wilbur. It’s entirely possible that Wilbur went to her for some bread and pastries, she baked a virus into it, and he used an old note and modified it to make it look like she had written it for Tubbo. He leaves it on the doorstep, or whatever, Tubbo finds it, he’d eat it, and he’d get… Infected.”

“He didn’t eat it, right?!” Fundy stood up, knocking his chair back as he pressed his hands down on the table. “Right?!” Quackity raised his hands quickly, nodding as he leaned back in his chair. He had learned in the last month to not cross Fundy whenever he got protective like this. He had only ever seen him do it for the people of Manberg, and most importantly, for Tubbo. You couldn’t _pry_ him off that kid if he didn’t wanna go. He had bitten a doctor for just suggesting he’d leave.

“Tubbo wasn’t eating in general, so he dodged a bullet. My guess is that Wilbur wanted to infect him with the virus so he’d be easy to capture since it would weaken him and everything.”

“But then what?! How would he make Tubbo better?!” Fundy demanded. “Viruses—they’re not easy to cure!”

“This does suggest that he might have a way to cure it,” Quackity pointed out.

“Or he was just going to tackle that problem when he got to it,” Schlatt muttered, putting the paperwork down. “These are all guesses and what-ifs, but you know how we could find out for sure?” He stood up. “We can ask Niki.” Fundy’s scowl dropped.

“Niki wouldn’t,” he said, voice rushed. “She wouldn’t do that to Tubbo, not infect him with some, some virus—she wouldn’t do that to _anyone!_ She’s the sweetest person I’ve ever met!”

“You also thought Wilbur was a good father.”

Fundy’s ears pressed down on his head. Quackity stood up, quick to defend his friend. “Fundy’s got a point, Schlatt. What if— what if we’ve got this all wrong? What if Niki had nothing to do with this? Why wouldn’t she just write her own note?”

“We’ll find out, won’t we?” Schlatt’s eyes were dark as he stared at them, and the two gulped as they both realized, at the same time, that nothing was stopping Schlatt at the moment. At this moment, he believed Niki had tried to poison his son. Fundy thought about what he had told Tubbo about Ram parents when they had been having dinner in that diner.

_"They watch them like hawks and they’ll tear apart anyone that so much as looks at their child wrong.”_

Fundy felt very worried for his friend if she really had done what the evidence pointed to. Schlatt turned his back on them, the lights casting a long shadow behind him. Quackity’s eyes caught on the silhouette of the horns.

“I’m sure her workers will know where she is. After all,” Schlatt opened the door, “you said it yourself, Quackity. They must be sending the funds to her.”

Fundy and Quackity looked at each other as Schlatt left the room, stalking down the hallway with tense shoulders. As he walked, he could hear his brother’s soft voice, echoing in the empty hallway.

_“Today of all days,_

_See..._

_How the most dangerous thing is to love.”_

**Author's Note:**

> I know it might be kinda weird that Schlatt referred to his twin as beautiful, but it's entirely platonic. Obviously. Ew. It's like. Do you ever look at your siblings, for those of you that do have siblings, and you're like "damn. you're beautiful." It's just a pure sort of love, the pure sort of admiration. If you don't have siblings, just apply it to your friends. Or just strangers you see throughout your day. You don't want to fuck them. You just admire how they look. Schlatt and his twin were close, and he adored him. So that's why a word he used for him was beautiful.
> 
> The song is Achilles Come Down, by Gang of Youths. Check that shit out, it's amazing. And it's the theme for Schlatt's twin to Schlatt himself. That's why he was singing it to him :)


End file.
